


Deep-Seated Roots

by DreadWolfsWhisper



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragon Age Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Artists, Companions, Dalish Elves, Elves, F/M, Falling In Love, Love, Quote: May the Dread Wolf Take You (Dragon Age), Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Solas is Fen'Harel (Dragon Age), Solavellan Hell, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreadWolfsWhisper/pseuds/DreadWolfsWhisper
Summary: Dragon Age Modern Day Alternate Universe in Thedas.What if there was a different kind of magical veil that blocked most mages from using their gifts? A world where magic is so rare it is nearly unheard of? And those with power are feared, or hunted? Or don't even know of the power within?This is a story about Love, loss, hardships, friendships and oh yeah... magic.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan, Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Character(s), Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Lavellan & Solas
Comments: 25
Kudos: 11





	1. Bella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella has a meeting with her Therapist, and he challenges her to try something new.

  
“Tell me what you see Bella.”

She pulled in a deep breath before she spoke. “I see my arms out in front of me, reaching ahead of me. I’m frantic and feel the anxiety prickling through my body as I am searching… ” Her voice trailed off slightly, but she pulled herself back together before her emotions took hold of her and shook her to her very core.

Dr. Dusan nodded his head once and his blonde brows knit. “Please, continue.” He leaned back in his armchair which made him appear smaller but his curious eyes never left her. He was a prodigy, and possibly the youngest therapist in Thedas. His mannerisms left some people unsure of him, but he was the best and right now that is what she needed. 

  
She swallowed and nervously continued. “I am crying out for help, for anyone. There are so many people around me, but they don’t respond. It’s as if I am not even there.” She suppressed her emotions and continued. “Then suddenly he’s in front of me…” She seemed to choke on her words as she imagined the dream.

  
Dr. Dusan leaned forward a little. “Who Bella? Who is in front of you?” He spoke quietly, and watched her chin quiver as she recollected the dream, her cheeks and nose turning red with the grief she was desperately detaining. “Is it Abelas? Is that who you see?”

  
An airy gasp escaped her throat at the mention of his name like a punch to her gut, and she sat up from the chaise. “I… I don’t know. I think so.” She covered her eyes with her hands trying to see him as she recollected the dream. “I can’t see him! Why can’t I see him?! I see him in everything else I do but not in this dream!” Anger began to burrow itself in her gut. “Why can’t I see his face?! Its so fucking blurry! All I can make out is his figure! It’s… It’s as if I am counting birds against the bloody sun. I’m blinded and all I see is his outline, and no one is helping me! Why wont they help me? I’m begging, and yelling and pleading but they don’t see me! Why can’t they fucking see me?!” Her fist came down from her eyes and slammed into the chaise.

“This is good. You need to let it out. You need to express these emotions.” He paused. “Four years of hurt, is too long.”

  
“I can’t express them, not with my full time profession.” She looked up from her hands, locking her angry eyes on his.

  
“I understand.” He tilted his head and stared at her. “I am grateful that you chose me to help you. Emotions run deep, and if you are not careful you will drown in them. I am a vessel to help you cross and explore the deepest of oceans.”

  
She understood why so many people thought he was a strange one, but she was intrigued by him, and hopeful for progress. “Well every other therapist failed me.” She bit the inside corner of her mouth, considering her words. “Or… I suppose I failed them. I don’t understand why this is so hard for me.”

  
“You did not fail them.” He took a deep breath. “You just need different methods of therapy, methods they could not provide, or did not think to.” His voice was small and almost childlike. “He was your husband, your partner, your friend. He was taken and you were left here to your hurt. Grief is ugly, messy and unpredictable. It conceals itself well and strikes like a serpent, it could take years to recover from that.” His stormy eyes wandered above her as if he were lost in his own thoughts.

Bella adjusted herself, pulling her legs to the front of the chaise. “Well Dr. Dusan, what is you opinion of my dream?” She asked clearing her throat.

“I think we need to explore it further.” He said still looking above her. “But as of this moment it seems you feel unheard, and helpless. Possibly due to your lack of control in the situation you were in, and possibly due to the lack of help you received from the other therapists.”

“What about him? Why do you think I can not see his face?” 

“That, we will explore in our next session.” He said quietly. She was unhappy with his response, but understood their time was almost up. His eyes were still looking above her, leaving her confused and slightly uncomfortable. She was about to speak but he cut her off. “Art.” He said slowly. Then his eyes slowly drifted to hers. “I would like you to go to an art gallery, there is a showing tonight.” 

She scoffed, “You can’t be serious.” 

He met her reaction with confusion. “Oh… so you have done this before? Another Dr. recommended it then?” 

“Well no.”

“You thought to do this yourself before?” He prodded. 

“Again, no.” 

“Is there a problem with my suggestion?” He sounded almost pained.

She was defeated and inhaled deeply. “No.”

“Oh, good. I… I will write the directions down for you.” He began to scribble on the notepad in his lap. “I find galleries to be a very good place to find your emotions. You may want to go with someone? Moral support is always comforting.” He tore the paper from his pad and handed it to her. 

  
She stared at the writing for a moment considering if this was actually a good idea. “I will see if I can find someone.” 

As if on queue the timer chimed. “Ah, well that is our session.” They both stood and were about the same height. “In our next session we will discuss how you felt afterwards, or during.” He said awkwardly. “Maybe take a pen and notepad.” 

She nodded tapping the paper in her palm. “Thank you Dr. Dusan.” She gave a half hearted smile.

“It’s Cole. You can call me that if you like.” He guided her to the door.

“I prefer to stay professional Dr. Dusan, you understand?” She asked with a raised brow.

He bowed his head, “That is okay too.” 

.  
..  
…  
….  
…..

  
She stood outside for a moment absorbing the crisp fresh air. It brushed against her cheeks which struck her with a vision of Abelas. The way he gently stroked her cheeks when he would lean in and kiss her slowly. She closed her eyes trying to remember the sensation as she raised her fingers to her lips. Her eyes became warm but the tears did not surface, as she stood there missing his touch, then his smell, and his throaty laugh. Her chest became tight and she suddenly felt very small, especially next to this towering building. She looked up it feeling as if Dr. Dusan was watching her with those curious eyes, she shifted uncomfortably pulling the collar up on her coat then made her way to her car. 

She sat for a moment, recounting the session, then began heading towards her apartment, but suddenly pulled off into a different direction, as if controlled by someone else. Finding herself minutes later at the graveyard. She inspected herself in the mirror as if going on a date and let out a quick laugh at the realization. Her shoulders shrank back down and her expression became marked with pain as she grabbed her satchel and headed towards his gravestone. 

The headstone was beneath a large Elvehn oak tree. She stared at it for a moment, remembering how happy he was that this spot was available, and her feeling so upset at his joy in finding his burial site. She was so mad at him. She hated herself for being mad back then. She found herself regretting any argument they used to have. It made her feel ill, as if she should have cherished every single moment, big and small.

As she stared at the headstone it began to take new shape in her mind and she pictured him laying in bed beckoning her to him, with that mischievous smirk marking his expression. He ran a hand through his beautiful snowy white hair, a gesture that drove her wild with lust. His bare chest begging to be touched, kissed, licked. Her brow knit as she remembered their first time together, both so nervous. Shaky hands hungrily feeling each other, taking in every inch of one another. Her heart ached painfully at the memory. 

Her knees gave way and she sank to the ground hugging the headstone as if it were his welcoming embrace. Her eyes heated with tears she withheld. She closed them and rested her face against the cool stone. She envisioned his golden eyes absorbing the sight of her and wrapping his warm arms around her slender shoulders. “Why did you leave me.” She imagined his ear next to her lips. “ You promised me forever, and now… look what’s become of you.” She gasped, “ and here I am, a shell of a woman I once was, hallowed out and emptied. Left here, in shattered pieces. Will I ever be whole again?” She paused and imagined hugging him, pressing her face harder against the headstone. “I used to know who I was. Proud and independent. I could handle the world on my own. Then you had to come into my life and show me exactly what was missing. I thought I was whole until I met you.” Her voice became shaky. “Then I realized, your love made me whole, a love so strong, and so powerful.” Anger began to bleed into her pain. “I was fine before I met you!” It came out in a distorted gasp-yell and she began to shake violently slamming a fist into the headstone. She couldn’t differentiate the entanglement of emotions, so she rest there with one fist on the head stone and one arm wrapped around it in embrace.

Minutes passed and the vision of the warm muscular arms in her mind began to shrink into the sickly arms that he could barely lift in the end, and the golden eyes she remembered began to sink in, as exhaustion began overwhelming them. His beautiful snowy hair gone as she had to shave his head when it began falling out. She backed away from the headstone as if staring into his face. “By the Gods, I miss you.” She paused. “I love you forever.” As if the world felt her pain in this moment, it began to rain. Large drops of water falling like tears from the sky, as if they were the tears she could not release from herself. She leaned forward and kissed the headstone for a long moment. Then walked back to her car slowly.

She numbly drove to her apartment. Not even sure how she managed to get there safely. She walked up the flight of marble stairs in the building, fiddling with the keys between her finger tips. Her neighbor was just leaving as Bella was unlocking her door. “Are you alright love?” Bella looked over her shoulder at the elegant woman with her warm smooth skin. 

“Yes.” Bella let out with a half hearted smile.

The woman raised her perfectly shaped brow. “Not very convincing, my dear. I do not believe we have properly met. I am Vivienne, though clearly now is not the time for introductions. Lets say tomorrow around 7? I will bring the wine.” She strutted off before Bella could object, leaving her to inhale deeply in annoyance.

Upon opening the door her pet fennec came running to her feet. “Elgara. How are you love. Shall I take you out?” Elgara weaved playfully through her legs, excited to see her.

She took her on a shorter walk as it was raining harder now, they were both drenched as they came back into the apartment. Bella tossed her satchel on the counter in the kitchen and grabbed a towel to dry Elgara, then filled her food dish. 

She noticed the directions slid out and she picked them up slowly, debating on whether to go or not. She looked down at Elgara, “What do you think? Do you think I should go?” Elgara looked up at her then back down to her food bowl, Bella chuckled as she poured a glass of red and carried it and the directions to the bathroom where she drew a bath. 

She would sip her wine then look over at the directions on the sink as if they were looking at her too. The longer she stared at the directions, the more anxiety rooted itself in her. She felt that she had to go, even though she desperately wanted to stay and snuggle Elgara. If she went at least she would have something to say to Dr. Dusan about it, whether she felt anything or not. “Damn it! Fine!” She yelled at the paper as if it were nagging her to go, then she submerged herself for one last rinse. 

She wore her black silky undergarments as she dried her hair. Her eyes caught view of the door frame in the mirror and memories flashed before her. Abelas loved to watch her, he would lean against the door frame coolly and admire her while she readied herself. Sometimes he couldn’t resist and would make passionate love to her right there on the counter. Bella closed her eyes tightly to rid herself of the beautiful yet painful memory, and was brought back to reality when she saw her reflection in the mirror. “Ugh, I look tired.” She said to herself, noticing the dark circles that ringed are topaz blue eyes. She lightly dabbed concealer under her eyes and touched her already thick lashes with a small amount of mascara, and her makeup was complete. She wandered into the bedroom and opened the closet, his clothing still hung there neatly, even after four years. Ritualistically she ran her hand across them slowly, until finally landing on her black dress. She pulled on her dark green coat, grabbed an umbrella and headed out.

She got there in what seemed like no time at all, though she had missed the artist introduction. In fact she was quite late as only a few people remained. She walked to a greeter at the door. “Did I miss it? Is it over?” She was hoping he would say yes, but to her dismay he shook his head. “Thank you.” Her heals clicked on the cement floor as she made her way slowly, through the exhibit examining each piece of art. 

  
They are beautiful she thought, but she felt nothing as she looked upon them. What was Dr. Dusan thinking would happen? She wondered. The exhibit began with explosions of color, messy but beautiful. However, as she made her way through they became cleaner softer pieces, more structured and you could see shapes within the paintings. A few had her tilt her head as she examined them, but nothing drew out emotions, like the Dr. was thinking. 

She drew in a deep breath feeling that this was a lost cause and made her way to the last section. It was dimly lit except for on one picture, which seemed to knock the wind from her lungs. She was frozen for a moment before she walked closer to it. It was only two colors, black and gold. The black seemed to trail out and upward like branches and the gold seemed to outline it. “Abelas.” She said in a hitched breath. The gold was the same color as his eyes, and the black reminded her of the tree he was buried beneath. She reached up to touch it but paused before her fingers could feel it. 

  
“Are you alright.” A warm velvety voice sounded from behind her. She hadn’t realized she was crying, until he asked the question. 

  
Her hand retreated to her cheeks, feeling the moisture. “Yes. Gods I’m so sorry. I’m so embarrassed.” She reached into her satchel frantically trying to find a tissue. 

“For crying?” He paused. “There is no need to apologize for that.”

  
She was still desperately looking for a tissue, “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I…” He walked over and handed her a handkerchief. She couldn’t look up to see his face, as she was mortified that anyone saw her in such a state. “Thank you.” She said as she took it from his slender hand, turning away quickly. 

“It is nice, that you have an emotional connection to a piece of art. Not many do. Sure, they come, they gawk and criticize. Some compete saying they can do better, then there are the few that have the raw, undeniable emotional connection and it is rewarding to see.” He stood in front of her examining the artwork so that all she saw was his height, lean body and back of his head which was full of auburn hair. 

She swallowed. “I… I would like to purchase this piece.” He let out a familiar throaty chuckle which sent chills shooting through her body and raised the hair on her arms. She pulled back a bit inhaling deeply as he began to turn toward her, and her body began shaking nervously. The sides of his head were buzzed short which seemed to accentuate his high sharp cheek bones. Light from the exhibit reflected for the briefest moment off his grey blue eyes, and a familiar smirk touched the corner of his full peach colored lips. “By the Gods.” She whispered. He was beautiful and looked as if he could have been related to Abelas. Her lonely heart seemed to beat for a moment, but she drew in a deep breath and looked away from the man, denying herself another look at the handsome elf in front of her. “Assuming you are the artist, how much for the piece?” She asked looking at the ground.

He chuckled again. “Are you asking the floor? Or are you asking me?” Did she detect playfulness in his tone?

“You.” Her eyes flashed up to him then back down to the ground. 

He stepped closer. “That depends. Will you tell me what you saw?” 

She felt like she couldn’t breathe. She did not wish to tell this stranger what she saw, no matter the level of flirtation or how attractive he was. “It’s quite personal actually.” 

“Ah. I see.” He paused and turned back to the painting. “A deeply personal connection.” He said staring at it tilting his head. “Would you like to know what I see when I look at this piece?” He did not turn away from the artwork.

She wanted to leave, at least her mind wished it. Her mind wanted to run, to escape into the night and feel the cold on her skin, but her body was unmoving. Something within was holding her there as she seemed to be rooted to the spot. Something within her wanted to hear the stranger tell her what he saw. “Go on.” Her words came out with a slight tremor.

“I see a man. He is overtaken by darkness. Its hold on him stretches outward, branching off as if to spread this darkness further, until it is all consuming.” A heaviness hit the pit of her stomach as he spoke. “But there is light, a brightness, perhaps even a goodness that illuminates around him. Preventing the darkness from expanding its reach.” A sob broke from her lips and he turned quickly, concerned for the beautiful woman. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t.”

Her hands covered her face and tears ran freely down her cheeks. She turned away from the handsome man, utterly mortified. “You want to know what I see?” She whimpered. “I see… I see my husband. My husband and that fucking tree.” She faced the wall, unable to face this man who saw so much within his painting. “What… what am I doing here? Gods!” She turned to walk away but he caught her arm, her red swollen eyes shot to his.

“I… I’m sorry I caused you grief. It was not my intention.” 

“I have to go.” She said weakly looking down at his hand on her arm.

“Please, before you go. A moment?” He let go of her arm and walked to the painting, removing it from the wall. “Please take this.” She shook her head in protest. “As a gift.” 

  
“I can’t accept this as a gift. I must pay you. Please let me pay you.” The tears ran down her cheeks and he couldn’t help but reach up and brush them away. Her eyes widened at his touch, and they each backed away from each other quickly. 

“My apologies, I… I wasn’t thinking.” He said as he stared at the ground.

  
She took in a few trembling breaths to compose herself and straightened her posture, reaching into her satchel she pulled out a check book. She wrote quickly and ripped it out. “I am paying you for this.” She took the painting from him and firmly placed the check into his hand. “If it is not enough, I wrote my phone number, you can call me and let me know.” She sniffled and then hurried out of the building determined to feel the cool air on her skin.

He watched her go, feeling sick to his stomach. Embarrassed at himself for brushing away her tears. A gesture so small, yet so intimate. He could not forget the way her mesmerizing eyes grew so wide. Fool! Damn fool! he thought to himself as he shook his head. 

The greeter at the door came over. “Did she buy that from you?” He asked curiously.

He held the check in his hand still, unable to look at it. “Indeed she did.” He said quietly.

“For how much?” The greeter asked excitedly.

He shook his head and shoved it into his pocket. “It doesn’t matter.” He turned and walked away from the kid. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name Dusan is pronounced as Duw-SAE-N. Dusan is used predominantly in the Serbo-Croatian, Slavic, and Czech languages, and it is derived from Hebrew and Slavonic origins. Slavonic origin, Czech use: It is derived from the element 'dusha' meaning spirit, soul.


	2. Solas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas has a flash back of meeting Varric Tethras.

After packing up all his art from the showing, Solas found himself heading towards The Drunkin Dragon. At first it was just the place he could get a cheap glass of whiskey and sketch, but it has now become his favorite spot, and really it was due to one dwarf in particular. Solas pulled into the alley, he began to remember the night they met 

**~Four Months Earlier~**

_He thought he was inconspicuous here when he first found the place. Sitting in the back and darkest corner of the bar. Watching and not engaging with anyone unless it was for a drink, but nothing and no one goes unnoticed for Varric._

_Varric watched him for days, curious about the quiet nature of the elf, and one cool night he finally approached him. “So kid what is your story?” He asked bluntly, leaning against the table with a mug of ale in hand. He wore a red button up which exposed a ridiculous amount of chest hair, and black pants. His hair was pulled half up into a bun. A large scar decorated his thick nose, and his grey eyes sparkled with curiosity._

_Solas eyed the dwarf questioningly. “Story?” He asked the dwarf._

_“Yeah, story. You know… his name is such and such and he came from a far off land determined to find new adventures… that sort of shit.” He sipped his drink not lifting his eyes from the slender elf._

_Solas chuckled. “I am afraid I will disappoint you, as I have no story.” He took a sip of his whiskey._

  
_Varric scoffed. “Every one has got a story. Granted they are not all exciting like the Hero of Fereldan or, my personal favorite The Champion of Kirkwall, but every one has got one.” They stared at one another for a moment. “Varric Tethras.” He extended his hand to the elf. “Owner of this fine establishment, as well as the coffee shop down the street, writer… or as I prefer, story teller and sometimes unwelcome company to lonely looking patrons.” He nodded at the elf._

_“Solas.” He shook Varric’s thick hand. “Pleased to meet you Varric.”_

  
_Varric was never one to give tells. He kept his face the same as the two spoke, but something about the elf named Solas had him curious. His quiet nature and politeness was intriguing. Usually when patrons come to the Drunkin Dragon they are not alone, and they are loud and chatty. Not Solas, he observed quietly from a distance and did not seem to even notice when a few sexy women gave him the eye. He had a sketch book next to him and seemed to pay the most attention to that more than anything else._

_“There it is!” Varric declared. “I’ve got it!” Solas raised his brow at the dwarf. “You are an artist, trapped in your own makings of your mind. Struggling?” He seemed to ask himself then continued. “Well not completely as you have been able to pay your tab all week. Am I on the right track?”_

_Solas let out another throaty chuckle. “Indeed you are, child of the stone.”_

_“Well… shit, no ones called me that in a long time.” He laughed slamming his mug on the table. “I like you kid.” A fight broke out across the bar. “Well, that is my queue. See you around…” He pointed at Solas. “Chuckles.”_

.  
..  
...  
....  
.....

_Varric locked up the bar that night shoving his hands in his trench coat he made his way to his car in the alley. “Night Varric.” A patron yelled at the dwarf, he passed a man vomiting near the dumpsters and a little further down passed a couple kissing against the wall. He raised his hand up and blocked his view from them. “Don’t mind me…” He laughed, returning his hand to his warm pocket after passing the two._

_His keys jingled as he pulled them out as he was approaching his vehicle. He was passing a small beat up car, noticing canvases in the back window, then a small pile of clothing in the back seat, as well as paint supplies. Then he noticed the elf sleeping in the front seat. It was Chuckles… He walked past the car when a ping of guilt stopped him in his tracks, causing him to turn around and walk back to the beat up car._

_He tapped the window with his key, and Solas flinched awake, he was surprised to see the dwarf. Solas groggily rolled down the window… “Do I need to move my vehicle?” He asked in a sleepy tone._

_“Shit Chuckles… struggling artist…” Varric shook his head feeling sorry for the elf. Solas looked down at his hands. “Where’s your home kid?”_

_Solas looked at Varric. “Where ever I am is home enough for me.” Solas said with a sideways grin._

_“Okay then kid.” Varric paused. “If that’s the case, follow me.” He pointed to the black car down the alley. “That’s my car, follow it.” Solas scoffed and Varric shot him a daring look. “If you don’t, I will come back and drag you out of this car and bring you with me. Either way, you come with me. What will it be.”_

_Solas rubbed his chin then nodded. “So be it.”_

_Varric clapped his hands together, “Good! I’m glad we are in agreement.”_

_They arrived at his apartment complex, Varric pressed in the code for the front door and with a buzz it opened. He held the door open for the tall slender elf to enter. The foyer was warm and inviting with its dark wood floors, and deep burgundy walls. The postal boxes were on the left, a staircase straight ahead and an elevator on the right. Solas did a 360 inspecting the space. “Come on kid.” Varric walked past him and made his way up the stairs. For some reason Varric began to stomp loudly and fiddled with his keys so they jingled. As well as he began whistling a tune, and as they approached his apartment, the door across from his flew open in a fury._

_“Nuisance!” The short haired woman hissed at Varric. “Must you always come home in such a manner? There are some of us who have real jobs we need rest for.”_

_Varric turned smugly and looked up at the woman, her eyes piercing him like a long sword. “Oh I’m sorry Ms. Pentaghast, did I actually interrupt your beauty sleep, or were you just waiting up for me?” Varric winked and she let out a disgusted gasp._

_“And who is this now?” She asked in annoyance. “Another stray for you to take in.” She shot Solas a spiteful glare._

_Solas stepped forward to introduce himself, but Varric shot up an arm to stop him. “What can I say? I actually like people, and I like to help them when I can.”_

_She let out a laugh. “You help them? More like use them! For your ridiculous stories!” She glared._

_“Only with their permision Ms. Pentaghast.” He looked up at Solas for a second._

_“I should report you to Mr. Pavus! Maybe he will hike up your rent for all the strays you bring in.”_

_“I dare you.” He stepped forward, giving her a challenging stare. She said nothing, just met his eyes with her own that burned with deep annoyance. “Good night, Ms. Pentaghast.” She scoffed and slammed the door in his face and he let out a chuckle and opened his door._

_“What was that all about? If it is an issue for me to be…”Solas tried to speak._

_“No no no, you are not the problem.” Varric said slyly. “She just wants a piece of this.” He held up his hands showcasing himself and both men chuckled. Solas inspected the apartment. Books were scattered on the coffee table, and there was a writing desk beneath a window with an open laptop and a mess of paper next to it. Solas followed Varric into the kitchen, “Pick your poison.” Varric said gesturing to the liquor cabinet._

_“Whiskey.” Solas said with a grin._

_“Ah, of course. I should have known.” He pulled a bottle out and poured two glasses._

_Both men took a seat in the living room. Varric lounged in a red armchair and Solas sat on the edge of the green velvet couch. They sat for a moment each sipping their whiskey. “So I was right. You make some money, but not enough.”_

_Solas nodded with a quiet chuckle. “Yes.”_

_Varric nodded for a long moment in thought. “Alright, the bar is unfortunately fully staffed.” Solas began shaking his head. “But my coffee shop Bartrands Beans, could use a morning person." He chuckled. "The name gets me everytime, a little homage to my brother, dumb bastard. Anyways you would make coffee, sell some muffins, it's easy enough work.” Varric ignored Solas’s protesting nod and continued. “Look, its not a handout, you would make minimum wage. It would at least be a steady check coming in for ya. You could work early mornings, like 6 am till… shit I don’t know 12… 1. You can decide. That way you can have the day to do your art stuff.”_

_Solas stared at the drink in his hand then gave Varric a sideways glance. “I don’t…”_

_“Look Chuckles, you can stay here until you earn enough for some rent, then I will help you find a place. Sound like a plan? After all, a couch is far more comfortable than a car.”_

_“I’ve slept in far worse conditions.” Solas said into his drink._

_“I’m sure you have. So what do you say?” He extended his arm for a handshake. “Deal?”_

_Solas considered it for a moment, then nodded. “Deal.” They shook on it._

**~Present Day~**

  
“You brushed the tears from her cheek?” Varric burst into laughter behind the bar, then slid Solas some whiskey. 

Solas grabbed the glass and downed it quickly. “She was crying and seemed so… so…” Varrics laughter continued obnoxiously. “My body simply reacted.” 

“I… couldn’t write… better shit than that!” Tears from laughter filled Varrics eyes and he keeled over to catch his breath, then wiped his face on his shoulders. “I’ve not seen you look at a woman let alone touch one!” His laughter wheezed from his lungs and he poured another glass for Solas who simply shook his head downward. Varric settled after a moment still smiling, “So how much did she pay you?” 

Solas shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t get myself to look at the check. I’m mortified.”

“So she was a looker huh?” Varric questioned with a brow raised. “I mean for her to catch your attention, she must be something else.” Varric took a shot for himself.

“I actually didn’t see her at first. I heard her. Her… heals on the floor, that’s what caught my attention. Then I… creepily followed her.” Solas laughed as the buzz from alcohol began to thrum through him.

Varric smiled. “Go on Chuckles.”

“I don’t know. I seemed to become someone else entirely as I followed her through the exhibit. Watching her, and the way she would react.” He huffed. “Wow, I sound…”

“Stalkerish, creepyish.” Varric chuckled leaning on the bar. “A little… but some people are into that.”

Solas tittered. “What was I thinking.” He ran a hand through his hair and held it there, resting his elbow on the bar top.

“Chuckles, sometimes we do odd things when our interest is peaked. It doesn’t make you bad, only slightly awkward. Anyways kid, what are the chances you will run into her again?” Solas looked up at the dwarf. “Slim.”

“I have her phone number, she wrote it on the check.” Solas smirked.

“Oh yeah? So call her up, make a date! Oh wait… it’s on the check! The check you can’t even get yourself to look at, because your so embarrassed. Also you mentioned earlier she said something about her husband… That could pose a problem.” Varric stared at Solas with brows raised.

“You’re right. The chances are… slim.” Varric picked up the whiskey bottle and seemed to ask if he would like another, with no words. “No, thank you. I have an appointment in the morning.”

“Oh that right. For your crazy ass dreams. It’s probably best you are not entirely hung over for that.” 

Solas rose from his seat. “I will see you later then.” 

“You know where I’ll be.” Varric said then turned to the other patrons in the bar.

  
.  
..  
…  
….  
…..

  
The sunlight came through the windows almost blinding Solas as he lay on the couch. He sat up running a hand through his hair, then stretched his tense back. Another month and he would finally have enough to rent his own place. However he did enjoy Varric’s company, and was grateful for the friendship that grew between them. He pulled a white V neck over his head and grabbed his grey jeans. His brown worn leather shoes needed to be resoled but he slid into them tying them quickly. He rinsed his face and brushed his teeth then grabbed his dark green jacket and made his way to the coffee shop. 

Bodahn offered to cover his shift and gave Solas a smile when he entered. “I just need a black coffee Bodahn.”

“Sure thing Mr. Solas.” He was always cheerful, he turned and began to pour the coffee. 

“Good morning Sandal.”

The boy sat at a table, fiddling with his runes. He looked up and smiled. “Enchantment?” 

Bodahn handed Solas his coffee with a smile. “No thank you Sandal.” Solas gave Bodahn a gracious nod and headed out.

  
The morning was crisp, but the sun gave warmth as it peeked through the buildings. Solas decided he would walk to the Therapists office today, and was glad he did. The fresh air seemed to settle his nervous energy, and the coffee warmed him from the inside out. He put a hand in his jacket pocket and felt the check against his fingers. He let out a sigh and shook his head. Remembering his ridiculous behavior from the exhibit. The bright bewitching glow of her bluish green eyes were burned into his memory, and the way they looked at him when he brushed her cheek. “Fenedhis.” He said aloud shaking his head, removing his hand from his pocket and balling it into a fist.

He walked the few blocks quickly and could see the tall building before him. He looked up it as it towered above him, taking in a large breath he entered. The receptionist flirtatiously instructed him where to go, but he ignored her advances. Walking away and entering the elevator. He reached into his pocket again feeling the paper between his fingers. Do I tell the therapist about this? What do you do in these sessions? How does it begin even? He wondered as the bell to his floor dinged. 

There was another receptionist sitting at a desk. Her dark hair pulled back into a bun loosely and strands of hair framed her face. “I have an 8:30 appointment.” 

“Yes, have a seat.” She smiled and gestured to the chairs. 

He sat for a few minutes looking around the space. It was very peaceful, with minimal decorations. There were a few plants and a coffee table with magazines on them. He felt at ease, ready to experience a conversation with this highly recommended therapist. His hand found his pocket again, the space brought him enough comfort that he felt he could finally look at the check.

“The Dr. will see you now.” She stood next to him and spoke softly. “Right this way.” She opened the door to the office and Solas entered the large room. His heart dropped to his gut as the first thing he saw was a painting leaning against the desk in the back of the office, his painting. He pulled the check out of his pocket quickly and read the name on it. Bellanaris Lavellan. Then turned and looked at the name on the door. Dr. Lavellan.

“She came from the left with a glass of water in hand. “Good morn-” Her words came to an immediate halt as they stared wide eyed at one another. Those bewitching eyes he could not remove from his mind stared at him in disbelief. They both stood, unmoving and unable to breathe.


	3. Session 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella recollects the first session with her new patient, Solas.

Vivienne topped off Bella’s glass of wine. “So let me make sure I have this correct love. The artist that you ran into at the exhibit, the one that drew out so much emotion in you from his piece of work, was actually your patient today? Are there codes or restrictions that prohibit him from being your patient?” 

“Well no, because all he did was...” Bella looked up from the glass of wine she held between both her hands. Though she was blushing slightly she tried her best to play it off as coolly as possible. “Brush a tear away.” She shrugged her shoulders as if it meant nothing, as if she only cried a single tear, instead of the ocean of tears that escaped her that night. Sobbing as she stared at the piece of art in her room, as if she was staring into Abelas’s eyes. 

Vivienne shifted on the sofa as she stared at Bella. “And there is no… attraction between you?” She sipped her wine not once removing her eyes from Bella.

“Gods no!” Bella lied, not only to Vivienne but to herself. She felt sick even entertaining the idea of looking at someone in a romantic way, as if she were cheating, the guilt weighed heavily within her belly. “I’m married Vivienne.” 

“Oh?” Her eyes shot wide with surprise. “Where is this man darling? I have not seen anyone enter this apartment other than you. Is he military?” Her brows pulled questioningly.

Bella let out a sigh. “Well, no.” She stood from the armchair and made her way to the mantle above the fireplace. She touched the silver vine like frame gently, then grabbed the picture carrying it over to Vivienne. “This is Abelas.” 

Vivienne could read Bella now, the way she slowly made her way to the picture, the way her eyes narrowed as she looked upon it, the way her voice became softer and heavier. Vivienne placed her wine down on the side table and gently took the picture from Bella. Tilting her head she stared at the couple on their wedding day. Bella wore a beautiful long sleeved lace trumpet gown. Her hair was pinned up with pearl pins and loose curls were strategically pulled down. Abelas had his snowy hair in a long braid, he wore a black suit with a gold pocket square, watch and tie clip. They were elegant. “Is? Or… was darling?” Vivienne asked softly.

Bella’s eyes met Vivienne’s. “He is still my husband.” She said aggressively, hot tears threatened her eyes, but she held them back.

Vivienne handed the picture back to Bella. “Of course sweet thing.” Bella pulled the frame to her chest and turned away. 

Vivienne did not press the issue, even though she was curious as to what happened, and as if Bella read her thoughts she spoke. “It was cancer.” She placed the frame back on the mantle and ran her fingertips over Abelas. “It… it all happened so fast.” She did not turn she simply stood staring at him in the photo. “No one prepares you for something like that. Watching the strong man that vowed to love and protect you forever, wither away… like a bouquet of flowers left in a vase for too long. All the petals fall and turn to dust in your hands…” She turned to look at Vivienne. “No one prepares you to be a widow at twenty-five.” Her eyes were glossy, but the tears did not abandon them. 

Vivienne nodded with a compassionate look upon her face. “Indeed, no one prepares you for loss.” She grabbed her glass of wine and took a sip. She too lost someone she loved, but bit her tongue as this was not the time to compare sad stories. “It is times such as those that I wish magic was still around.” She looked into her glass of wine. “However dangerous it may be or have been. Healers in todays world would be so valued.” 

Bella turned back around staring at the elegant woman, she too wished magic was common. She did search for healers, which took a lot of digging. There were rumors of one, but Bella received no response from her, even after writing the most heartfelt letter. It was a month later that Abelas passed. 

Elgara came into the room and hopped next to Vivienne on the sofa. With one finger she scratched her on the head, Elgara circled until she curled into a ball next to Vivienne. “So tell me, after this artist showed up what happened?” Vivienne eyed her curiously.

“Dr. Patient confidentiality, Vivienne. You understand?” 

“Of course my dear.” She looked at her watch. “Oh, I must be going! I have another engagement I must attend to. If I were to keep him waiting, I simply wont hear the end of it.” Both women stood and Bella walked Vivienne to the front door. Vivienne turned to Bella, “You know. Though we just met… I am here for you. If you need anything.” The sincerity was quite apparent in her eyes and she bent down and air kissed Bella on each cheek. “Don’t be a stranger darling.” 

Bella smiled weakly, “Okay.” She shut the door and leaned against it closing her eyes. She took in a deep breath and the appointment with the artist began to play out in her mind.

**~Earlier that day~**   
  


She carried the painting into the building. “Good morning Dr. Lavellan.” The security guard said from behind the counter.

“Good morning Thom.” She smiled at him, nearly dropping the coffee she held in her other hand.

Thom stood and hustled over to Bella. “Let me help you with that Dr.” He said in his deep growl of a voice. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Bella protested.

“It’s quite alright Dr. Lavellan. I have to do my rounds anyway.” He took the painting from her and they got on the elevator. He seemed to become a little nervous as they approached her floor. The elevator dinged and he seemed to perk up his shoulders as the doors opened. 

Bella walked toward her office, “Good morning Josie.” She said as she walked past the reception desk.

“Good morning Dr. Lavellan.” She said sweetly with her Antivan accent. 

“Good morning Lady Josephine.” Thom said awkwardly.

“Lady? What century are we in Sir Rainer?” She giggled flirtatiously.

  
“My apologies.” He became bashful, a charming look on the big man. “Are we still?”

Josie smiled sweetly, “Yes, Thom.” Her tan cheeks turned red.

“Good, then. I had made reservations at the Golden City.”

Josies eyes widened. “That restaurant cost a fortune.”

He smiled, “Worth every cent.” With that he turned and entered Bella’s office. “Where would you like it Dr. Lavellan?”

“Just lean it on the desk. Thank you Thom.” He nodded and left the room.

Bella hung her coat and satchel then looked over at the painting. She could now look at it without crying, as she had cried herself to sleep the night before. Walking over to her desk she looked to see who her appointment was. Mr. Osouf was typed in on her computer for 8:30. It was 8:15 so she used the extra fifteen minutes to settle in and check her emails. 

  
When her last email was sent, she buzzed Josie to let her know she was ready, then walked over to grab a glass of water.

The office door opened, “Good morn-” Bella saw who stood before her and froze, her heart seemed to stop beating as well. He looked just as surprised and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets quickly. “You.” Was all that left her lips, he looked to the floor and grinned. “I… I mean. You’re Mr. Osouf?” 

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” He said slyly, raising his eyes to hers, tilting his head ever so slightly.

The way he spoke with that velvet smooth tone, seemed to warm her within. She scolded herself internally and shook it off, extending her arm for a handshake. “Dr. Lavellan.” 

Her expression became serious and Solas eyed her dainty hand. With a smirk he took it in his slowly. “Bellanaris Lavellan.” Her name ran off his tongue almost sensually. 

She became flustered for a moment, “B-Bella…” She let out quietly as if entranced by him.

“Bella.” She stared at his tongue while he spoke her name slowly. She wondered if he was aware of the effect he had on her, and most likely women in general. No. I am married, she thought to herself, feeling guilty for the thought.

  
Her eyes fluttered as Abelas flashed through her mind, snapping her back to reality. “I prefer my patients to call me, Dr. Lavellan.” He still held her hand and she felt a strange sort of energy permeate between their palms, so she quickly pulled her hand from his. “Please have a seat.” She gestured towards the chaise. 

He smoothed his hands on his thighs as he sat, drawing Bella’s eye to his groin. She looked away quickly with a tingle prickling at her cheeks, taking a sip of her water then placing it on the side table next to her. “So, Mr. Osouf-.”

“I would prefer it if you called me Solas.” She was about to protest, “Please.” His expression and voice firm in his ask.

  
She was taken back and shifted in her chair. “Alright. Solas.” She cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind, I may be asking some personal questions as well as taking notes. The notes are to keep what you say fresh in my mind, so that we can reflect back on certain topics that may arise.” He was nodding as he absorbed what she was saying. “You may interrupt me at anytime, and I encourage you to take control of the conversation, guiding it in what ever direction you feel. Is that okay with you?”

He was still nodding, his eyes seemed to be taking her in. “Yes.” He ran a hand through his hair pushing it from his face, causing Bella to shoot her eyes toward her pad. By the Gods! She thought. That simple action pulled at a cord within her, sending warmth throughout her body and rising to her cheeks.

  
“First, I would like to know more about you Solas. I know you are a gifted artist, what else can you tell me about yourself?”

His brows raised as he leaned on the armrest of the chaise and rubbed his right wrist. “I love history as well as art. I find learning stimulating, and feel there is always time to read a good book. With that I find myself at the library, or at the bar drawing. I dabble in writing and musical instruments here and there, not inherently my forte, but I enjoy any artistic outlets I suppose.”

“What about friends? or” Bella hesitated a moment. “Girlfriends?” She asked as his nature seemed to be quiet and some what lonely.

He smirked. “Friends… Yes I have one. No girlfriends.” He said holding his gaze on Bella.

Bella cocked her head in surprise and cleared her throat. “One?”

He let out a small laugh, “Yes, the Child of the Stone. Varric.”

“Child of the Stone? Why do you call him that?” 

He smirked, “I don’t know really. I probably read it somewhere.”

“Okay, tell me about Varric.”

He inhaled deeply, “Varric owns a bar and coffee establishment… he showed a kindness to me. One I don’t see often these days.”

“What did he do?” She asked sweetly.

Solas rubbed the back of his neck, he didn’t want to tell this beautiful Dr. that he was homeless. He tried to think of a possible way around it. “He helped me find a more… stable job. Its nothing fancy but provides a steady check, and allows me to still have my creative freedom.” He knew she would ask about his other job, and he didn’t want to tell her he was just a barista at a coffee shop. So he continued speaking hoping she would forget to ask. “He is also the one who told me to speak with a therapist about my dreams.” Solas paused for a brief moment, remembering when Varric rushed into the living room to find Solas had screamed himself awake and was dripping in sweat. “I find my dreams really help with my art, no matter the depth of them.” He looked at her slowly, hoping she would ask about the dreams rather than job.

“Go on. What kind of dreams? Can you tell me about them?” He took in a deep breath. She brought her eyes back to his face, examining the sharp lines and angles. He is strikingly handsome, she blinked and forced herself to look down again at the pad of paper she held. Focus! she scolded herself internally.

“They are quite vivid. When I wake in the dream, they do not feel like dreams at all. It feels…” He took in another large amount of air. “Real.” He paused watching Bella receive the information.

“Please continue.” She said softly.

He nodded. “I find myself feeling at peace most times, exploring my surroundings. I watch as what appears to be spirits of people, playing out parts of their existence, at least that is what I think they are doing. Some do not seem to see me as I watch their small stories unfold. Then there are those that are just as curious of me as I am of them, watching me but not engaging.” Solas looked at his hands somberly. “Then there are the others.” He brought his eyes back up to meet Bella's. “They are aggressive, sometimes speaking to me in riddles. However, It seems that I know how to avoid them, like a deep rooted trait within me, an instinct.” Bella’s eyes narrowed as she stared at him. She is so beautiful he thought, the way her head was tilted in full curiosity. She sat tall, her skirt revealed smooth legs that were crossed. He imagined running a hand up her thigh and watching her expression turn from curiosity to pleasure. He shook his head ridding himself of the inappropriate thought about his therapist, returning his gaze to his hands.

“These more aggressive ones… Have they tried to tempt you in any way?” She asked curiously.

“No more than a brightly colored fruit is tempting you to eat it.”

His words silenced Bella for a moment who sat pondering his dreams. “Are all your dreams the same? Like this?” 

“No.” Solas shook his head. “There is a recurring dream I’ve been having lately.” His words were drawn out slowly.

“Would you like to tell me about this dream?”

The ticking of the clock seemed loud as Solas stared silently for a long moment. He was internally over analyzing this moment but reminded himself this is the reason he came after all. He wanted to discuss these dreams with a therapist and get another insight into them. There was just something about Dr. Lavellan, something familiar that made him slightly nervous to share them and he couldn’t place it.

“Solas if you do not wish to discuss-” Bella began.

“No… I want to share.” He closed his eyes, bringing the dream to the forfront of his memory. “I am… I am at court, I think. Not court as in judge and jury, but a formal court as if in front of royalty. There are… so many people around, staring at something. I try pushing myself through the crowed but the more I push through the more people seem to appear before me, making it difficult to advance.” He paused and touched his chest. “I feel a sense of urgency to get to what ever it is they are all looking at. My chest is tight making it difficult to breathe, and I am becoming frustrated. Then someone grabs my arms and begins pulling me away in the opposite direction. I feel the anger rise within me and my palms begin to tingle with a sort of… power.” Bella watched as his chest rise and fall rapidly as he remembered his dream. “I’m so desperate to get to, to… I don’t know!” He let out a frustrated sigh. “I yell, but nothing escapes me. No sound, nothing. I am trying so hard to break free but I feel the hands becoming tighter on my arms, pulling me back, their nails dig into my flesh. Furry burns within and I am blinded by a light. That’s when I find I scream myself awake.” He opened his eyes slowly, locking onto Bella’s. “Have I gone completely mad Dr. Lavellan?” He added a smirk to her name but his eyes were pained.

“No. Not at all.” She spoke softly, trying to ease his anxiety. “There are many reasons we dream Solas. It could be a way to maintain emotional balance. Perhaps you are working through difficult or complicated emotions due to past or present experiences.” She paused and leaned forward in her seat. “Have you gone through anything lately that would stir up these types of emotions?”

He chuckled, which rose the hair on Bella’s arms, as it reminded her of Abelas. “I suppose I have.” He looked over at the painting, melancholy crossed his expression.

Bella followed his gaze towards the painting. “Is that something you would like to talk about.” She seemed to feel his emotion as she began to feel an overwhelming saddness.

They both brought their eyes to one another’s slowly. “I… I don’t know.”

“If I am pressuring you Solas, please feel free to change the subject. I want you to know, you have _complete control_ here.” He watched her lips as she spoke the words _control_ and another inappropriate thought crossed his mind. He imagined dominating her on this very chaise, and her in complete ecstasy; and as if they had shared the thought he noticed the light flush begin to rise to her cheeks, she bit her lip and looked at her notes.

“Do you dream Dr. Lavellan?” 

She became slightly flustered as he stared at her. “Y-yes, but we are not here to discuss my dreams.” 

He stood and walked slowly to the window, leaning on it coolly as he looked out at the city below. His mannerisms were so fluid and oozed sexuality, causing Bella to become slightly nervous in her seat, shifting her position as she watched him. After a minute he finally spoke. “Why did my painting upset you so much? Those were not tears of joy I assume, and yet you wished to own that piece.” He looked to where the painting was leaning.

Bella followed his eyes to the paining, “Like I said before, we are not here for me…”

“Please Dr. Lavellan.” He shot her a daring look, then began walking towards her with his arms behind his back. “Humor me.” They both fell silent a moment. 

Bella stood and walked to stand in front of the painting. She stared at it feeling the mixture of emotions stir within. Solas slowly made his way next to her, watching her and relishing the way she stared so intensely at his art work. “He’s dead.” She said so quietly Solas wasn’t sure he heard her at all. “He died five years ago.” Bella felt her heart ache at her own admission to the stranger. Tears threatened her eyes, then she suddenly became aware of how close Solas was. For what ever reason she wished he would open his arms and let her weep in his chest. She had no idea that he wished to hold her just as desperately in that moment. 

  
Their arms brushed against one another, causing them to look at each other, which they did for a long moment. “I am sorry for your loss.” Solas said softly as he looked deeply into her glossy eyes.

Bella’s mouth dropped open slightly as she looked at this handsome man. “Thank you.” Their stare continued to linger. Both Bella and Solas could feel a heavy tension pull between them. “I… I don’t know if I should hang this here now.” Bella admitted. 

“Why is that?” Solas asked quietly.

She swallowed loudly and took in a deep breath. “I am not sure how appropriate it is to have a patients piece of work here in my office.” 

They stared at the painting for a moment, until Solas leaned down so that his lips were right next to her ear. Bella could feel the heat rise, flushing her cheeks and ears. She trembled slightly as he spoke, feeling his breath on her skin. “No one needs to know that it is mine.” He whispered, she turned and looked up at him. He was so close… if she just leaned in the slightest amount their lips would be touching. She suddenly felt weak, that maybe she would collapse so she walked next to her arm chair and leaned on it. He straightened himself turning to face her. She had her arms crossed one palm resting on her chest as if trying to soothe herself. He was about to speak, when the alarm chimed.

Had it been an hour already? The time seemed to flash by and she felt there was still so much to discuss. She cleared her throat. “Well that’s our session for today.” She let out almost breathlessly. 

Solas nodded and made his way towards the door. “Well this was a fascinating experience. I look forward to our next session Dr. Lavellan.” 

Bella pushed aside her nerves and followed him taking in a deep breath. “I hope to venture further into your dreams, possibly find some underlying connections.”

Solas eyes seemed to smile at her. “Till next week then, Dr. Lavellan.” He extended his hand to her.

She stared at it for a moment then placed her hand in his feeling that unusual sensations yet again, but tried her best to ignore it. “Till then.” She said softly and saw his eyes on her lips. He grinned, releasing her hand then left her office.

She stood with her hand still in the same spot then brought it to her chest, and began questioning if it was a good idea to keep him as a patient. 

  
  
  
**~Present Time~**

  
  
Bella opened her eyes, her heart thudding loudly within her chest as she thought about the session. Then the guilt began eating away at her. She could not be attracted to anyone, especially a patient! A heaviness began to weigh on her chest, causing her to keel over and she began to cry sinking to the floor slowly. Elgara rushed over to her with her big ears down, as if she could sense her mothers pain. She placed her little head onBella's leg and looked up at her sweetly. Bella gasped for air and pulled Elgara up into her arms hugging her tenderly.

Bella had not allowed herself to see anyone in the time after Abelas passed. She felt as if she would be cheating on the man she loved. She has denied herself her feelings for five years, and she had become completely numb. The world seemed to be in black and white and she was just a cog in the ever running machine. 

Now… Now she has met an artist, who added vivid color back to her dark world. He has conjured up feelings she thought were long lost and buried with her husband. He is a patient and she could lose her license if she acted upon her feelings. Feelings that made her think she was betraying her husband. "I'm so confused." Bella admitted out loud.   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Osouf: God’s wolf or warrior.


End file.
